


Noblegarden

by AurigaVenatici (p_3a)



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Inflation, M/M, Magical Pregnancy, Oviposition, Pain, actual trans guy mpreg, dubcon (via hormones)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-20 16:42:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1517765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p_3a/pseuds/AurigaVenatici
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wrathion finds out that, unfortunately, rabbits aren't the only creatures inexplicably laying eggs around the start of Spring. As his symptoms progress, he's forced to call on the only medic he trusts with his secret - one Anduin Wrynn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Noblegarden

**Author's Note:**

> Trans man Wrathion / cis man Anduin.
> 
> Context to their relationship: they've kissed and probably sexed before, but they aren't romantically involved yet.

It hadn't started all that significantly, he thought. He hadn't even noticed anything was wrong, not even with three days and counting of refusing his meals and snapping at champions who tried to get him involved in the absurd mortal holiday. It took Right taking him aside and, gently, telling him that his temper was getting out of hand.

"I just want to be left alone," he sulked, folding his arms across his chest. "They keep bothering me and they don't even have their tasks completed yet."  
"Perhaps it would be better if you were upstairs, then, your Majesty," she suggested, resting a hand on his upper arm.  
Now she mentioned it, that did seem like a rather pleasant idea... "Fine. Yes. Will you handle things down here?"  
"Of course, your Majesty." She bowed her head and went to take his place by the bench, as he climbed the stairs - maybe just a little more sluggishly than normal.

He read his book for a good three hours before his attention span began to wane, and he decided to take a nap. Despite his temper being abated due to being alone, he somehow felt worse in every other aspect - surely sleeping would help him feel better.

He was wrong. He could hardly breathe for a moment when he stood up, and he was forced to lean on his desk and catch his breath for about a minute before starting to move over to the bed. He felt heavy, and when he half-fell, half-collapsed forwards onto the bed, he suddenly realised there was far too much pressure on his stomach. He rolled onto his side, gasping for breath and glancing down at himself - realising, for the first time, that his belt was far too tight. Just what was going on..?

Almost afraid of what he'd see, he loosened his belt and brushed his tabard aside, lifting his shirt to get a proper look at his stomach. It was definitely... well, different, even at first glance. It was usually comparatively flat, covered with a thick layer of fat, soft and pliable - but today it was distended, the skin stretched thin over whatever was... well... he kneaded at the surface of his belly, feeling something hard and smooth inside.

A thousand possibilities raced through his mind; most of them seemed like something borne of nightmare, but apparently something had caused this. He just didn't know what, and... there were only two people likely to be able to help him.

Without bothering to sit up, he reached for his dragonscale mantle - discarded at the end of the bed when he'd entered the room - and touched at the bloodgem in the centre of it.

[Right?]

His bodyguard responded to the tug on her bloodgem quickly, replying to her master in a measured tone. [Yes, your Majesty?]  
[Something's wrong. I need your help.]  
Wrathion had a vague sense of her standing up, and even that much made him feel nauseous. [Are you sick, your Majesty?]  
[I--] he looked down at his distended stomach again, [I think so. I'm not sure. I'm a little frightened, to tell the truth.]

He heard footsteps, and dropped the bloodgem to the bed again as he heard Right enter the room. She shut the door behind herself and moved over, sitting on the edge of the bed. It was obvious to her where the problem was, at least - Wrathion hissed as her cold hands, business-like, ran over his exposed stomach, gently pressing and feeling at whatever it was that lay within it.

He looked like he was waiting to hear his death sentence when she withdrew her hand, offering him a small smile. "I don't think you're going to die," she said, then her face turned thoughtful. "But I don't know what could have caused this. You aren't supposed to start this process for another decade at least."  
"Well, I obviously have started it," he snapped, his irritation levels beginning to rise again at having somebody in his space. He pushed her hand away from his stomach and covered himself again. "What is it?"

"Eggs," she said simply. "You've developed unfertilised eggs."

He stared at her, expectantly.  
"... what is it, your Majesty?"  
"Well, how do I get them out?!" He whined and rolled onto his side, wanting to lie on his front but not being able to, not without crushing his lungs even more.  
"You just have to wait until they're ready, sir. When did you eat your last meal?"  
"...what? How is that relevant?"  
"It indicates how long the eggs have been big enough to compress your internal organs, sir. When was it?"  
He huffed, thinking back. "...Saturday, I think."  
"It should be in the next day or two, then," she reassured. "Left and I can take care of things until then."  
"Fine." He let out another involuntary whine, feeling the eggs shift inside him as he stretched out. At least he didn't need to save face in front of Right. "Go back downstairs. I'll be fine."

She left the room with little more noise than the click-shut of his door when she closed it, and Wrathion stretched out again, not sure how to feel about this. He'd known it was going to happen eventually, but... he'd thought the rumours of Noblegarden being a special time of year for this sort of thing to be exaggerated at best. Maybe some combination of the Eye of the Watchers' meddling in his biology, and his subconscious recognition of his status as one of Azeroth's very last Black dragons, was what had caused this to arise so soon. Or maybe it was the oh-so-magical time of year.

Regardless... he only hoped he could get through this with minimal pain. Being unable to shift into his dragon form - it was still far too small to bear eggs, its cloaca underdeveloped at best - would make that difficult. But he was sure he'd find a way. He always did, after all.

Unable to think about it much further, he struggled out of the more uncomfortable articles of clothing still on his person, burrowed into the blankets on his bed, and fell asleep.

-

He didn't exactly remember calling for Anduin Wrynn, but he had to say he was grateful for his arrival.

It was, as Right had predicted, two days later, and he was in an immeasurable amount of pain. Every time he moved, the weight in his belly pressed against his stomach, or his lungs, or - worst of all - the joints in his hips... and that wasn't even starting on the contractions. He'd thought he was dying the first time he'd had one, and each time one ended, he was sure was finally used to the pain - until the next one arrived, that was.

He didn't see Anduin enter the room - he was still burrowed under as many blankets as he could, his instinct to dig himself a den almost overwhelming by now. But he heard him chatting with his guards outside, in low, hushed tones:  
"So... one more time," the Prince of Stormwind said, "Wrathion's sick with some sort of... parasite, and I'm helping him. Then I can go back to the Crane Temple and finish my work there."  
"Yes," came Left's gruff voice.  
"Not exactly a parasite," Right corrected, then paused. "You'll see."  
There was a quiet sigh. If Wrathion had to guess, Anduin sounded almost... irritated. Maybe he'd been dragged here, but Wrathion liked to think he'd come willingly as soon as he'd heard how much pain the dragon was in. "Alright," Anduin eventually said. "Let me in."

There were a few minutes of shuffling, and Wrathion had to admit he lost track of time when another wave of pain hit him. He heard himself groaning, and suddenly a burst of light hit his eyes; he curled away from it, making a high-pitched and distinctly non-human skree sound in the back of his throat as he tried to burrow back under the blankets.

Anduin gasped and stepped back, certainly not expecting to see Wrathion quite so... exposed as he was. He'd shed his clothes entirely over the few days, and was now nude under the blankets. But, Anduin reminded himself, also in pain - so he refocused his energy and breathed out, bestowing an aura of calm over the room.

Wrathion felt his panicked breathing still as the pain gradually subsided under the warmth of Anduin's magic. He gave another low groan, this one out of... something else, though he couldn't place what. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd rolled onto his side and inched to the edge of the bed, dragging the heavy blankets with him. "Anduin," he called out, his voice hoarse. "Anduin. Come here."

"Wh... what do you need me to do?" The man's voice wavered with uncertainty. He'd had a plan when he'd walked in, but what Left and Right had told him certainly hadn't prepared him for this.  
"Come here. With me. Anduin~..." he made a sudden grab for Anduin's clothes, tugging him closer to the bed, "please, Anduin, I'm--"

Another wave of pain hit him, and Anduin, recognising it, renewed his spell. Wrathion visibly relaxed, breathing out and giving a sigh out of, again, something distinctly not pain - then renewed his efforts tugging at Anduin's clothes, trying to get him in the bed.

Anduin gave another patient sigh. "Alright," he conceded, clambering over the lip of the pandaren-style bed (as always, amazed by how soft and comfortable the mattress was) to settle beside Wrathion.

What followed was surprisingly calm - wrapping him in the blankets too, Wrathion curled up right by Anduin, his bare stomach pressed against Anduin's clothed ones, and nuzzled at his chin almost affectionately. The presence of anyone other than Anduin had made him feel agitated and territorial, but Anduin's was... pacifying, even without the magic.

"So..." Anduin gently reached a gloved hand to feel at Wrathion's stretched out stomach, his cold fingers probing and pressing gently. "Eggs. You're laying eggs."  
"Mm. Shut up." Wrathion leaned up and pressed a messy kiss to Anduin's lips; Anduin pulled away much sooner than Wrathion would have liked.  
"They're not... fertile?"  
"Impossible. I'm the last one, remember?" He started tugging at Anduin's clothes, his claws slipping under Anduin's belt and his hands seeking skin under his tunic. "So no. Not fertilised."  
Anduin half-smirked in the darkness under the blankets. "Well, if you could hurry it up so I could get back to work..." He undid his belt for Wrathion, slipping his gloves off and pulling his tabard over his head so Wrathion could open his coat.  
"And there was me thinking you liked spending time with me," Wrathion huffed, nonetheless pressing himself against Anduin's bared chest. The skin-to-skin contact felt good, even with the pressure on his belly... no, especially with that.

Another wave of pain - muted by Anduin's magic - washed over Wrathion and he took a sharp breath as he finally felt something shift inside of him. "Ahh... seems you might get your wish sooner than-- oh!"

The first egg in position suddenly pushed out of his uterus, and he felt an immediate relief of pressure, even with several still inside of him. He could feel it inside him still, though - it was fairly large, more or less filling his entrance, and it somehow felt... wonderful. He let out another distinctly-not-pained moan as he finally squeezed it out of himself, feeling it drop onto the bed by his behind. "Oh, Gods..."

Anduin moved his hand down to pick the egg up - it was searing hot, even for not actually containing a dragon whelp, and he almost dropped it again immediately. But he managed to move it to the bed between them, safe from being crushed under Wrathion as he squirmed. "There," he breathed, amazed at how the smooth egg glowed in the darkness under the blankets.

But Wrathion was nowhere near done. He gave a languid moan as he felt the next egg move into position, then a high-pitched hiss of pain; Anduin noticed his concentration on his spell had lapsed, and mentally scolded himself before renewing it.

"I know what else could help," Anduin murmured, stroking Wrathion's face.  
Wrathion breathed out, his lips falling parted; "what's... what's that, then?"  
Anduin's hand moved down to trace over Wrathion's bare chest, sliding down over his stomach - earning another helpless moan - until it came to rest between Wrathion's legs. He stroked the inside of Wrathion's thigh - "I know something that's a pretty good painkiller, and it won't run off as soon as my concentration lapses."  
"Nn, as long as you don't get in the way," Wrathion purred, nuzzling his face closer to Anduin's again.

They kissed as the next egg slipped out of Wrathion's womb; between the curve of the egg pressing against that one spot inside of him that made him sing, and Anduin's fingers on his clit, Wrathion soon found himself coming to a sweeping orgasm. The second egg was pushed out onto the bed during it, and Anduin once again reached out to place it safely between them, next to the first. The glow on the first one seemed to be fading over time; Wrathion either didn't notice or didn't care, simply grabbing for Anduin's wrist and roughly pressing his hand back against himself.

Anduin chuckled and tutted, sliding his fingers over Wrathion's soaked slit before bringing his fingertips back up to grasp at Wrathion's clit. Wrathion gave an open-mouthed moan and rocked back against Anduin's fingers.

It was getting harder to push the eggs out now there were fewer of them, and, accordingly, Wrathion cried out through another contraction. Anduin focussed just a little more magic, and Wrathion relaxed again; he rolled onto his back, spreading his legs and tugging on Anduin's hand. "Don't stop..."

Anduin saw no reason not to do as he was told, and the next noise Wrathion made was considerably softer and needier as his stomach once again tried to push one of the remaining eggs into position. Anduin continued to indulge him, gently gripping his clit between two fingers and stroking it the way he knew Wrathion liked; with the palm of his hand laying against Wrathion, he could feel for himself when the third egg moved past Wrathion's cervix.

The dragon gave another strangely satisfied-sounding whimper as he pushed it out of himself and onto the bed. Anduin only waited a moment for it to cool before moving it up to sit with the other two; the shells tapped against each other dully as the eggs settled into their impromptu nest together. He was filled for a moment with warm affection for the tiny things - before he was pulled back to reality by a combination of the fact that they did not, in fact, contain any baby dragons; and Wrathion's loud, needy moan at the fourth egg moving into position.

He was starting to feel himself get hard as he watched Wrathion writhing and panting; one touch to the dragon's clit made his cock twitch in tandem with Wrathion's back arching off the bed. Wrathion's own clawed hands went to push on his stomach just so; the eggs were coming quicker now he'd grown accustomed to how to do this. Number four hit the bedsheets with another loud moan from Wrathion, and Anduin, just as quickly, moved it up to sit with the other three.

Anduin almost didn't register for a moment when he felt a hand slide into his trousers, but he certainly noticed it when Wrathion made a brazen grab for his cock. He gasped, but didn't pull away; the sensation of Wrathion continuing the motion, moving to stroke his quickly hardening length in firm circular motions, was more than welcome, if... a little puzzling.  
"What..." he breathed, "what are you after here, Wrathion?"  
"You," the dragon said simply. His other hand grabbed for Anduin's wrist and pulled it back between his own legs, pressing Anduin's fingers against his clit once again. "Although not without another favour..."  
Anduin was very glad that his pain-soothing spell was apparently no longer needed, because what Wrathion was doing with his hand was obliterating any concentration he had left. He'd grip him down low, then pull up in a smooth, firm motion, circle his palm over Anduin's tip, then start all over again. It was almost making it difficult to concentrate even on continuing to pleasure Wrathion... almost.

He might even have not noticed the fifth egg beginning to make its way out of the dragon, were it not for the way Wrathion's hand slowed to a stop and his breathing picking up again. Anduin watched in mixed fascination and, now, arousal as the next egg slid out from between Wrathion's legs; he couldn't help himself but to pick it up immediately, despite the barely tolerable heat it was producing, to place it safe with the others.

The dragon barely gave Anduin a moment to breathe before starting to move his hand again. The way Wrathion was wriggling and whimpering, the way it was so hot here and how Anduin felt so oddly... safe beneath the blankets were all contributing to how quickly his own orgasm was sneaking up on him.

Wrathion wasn't even going to give him a chance to miss the last egg, though. He slid his other hand down his once-again relatively flat stomach and purred, "this is the last one, Anduin. Watch me..."  
And Anduin did. He watched how Wrathion's slick labia parted to give way to the faintly glowing egg; how smooth its shell was in contrast to the skin surrounding it; how wet Wrathion was and how sweet his moans were; how wonderfully he was stroking him... and just as the egg hit the bedsheet, Anduin had to screw his eyes shut and bring his other hand up to his mouth to muffle the noise he made as he came, hard, against the palm of Wrathion's hand.

Wrathion softly moaned Anduin's name as he came down from his own orgasm; though if Anduin had to judge, he looked like he was falling asleep. Anduin was sure to stash the sixth and last egg safely away with the others; it was a pretty little clutch they had, deep red and translucent, just like the gemstones that adorned Wrathion's outfit. In the low light, it was impossible to tell if there was anything inside.

Anduin caught Wrathion looking fondly at the clutch, like he himself had been moments ago, before drifting off to sleep. The older prince delicately removed Wrathion's hand from his own underwear and cleaned it off with his handkerchief, then moved to curl up around the eggs. ...Wrathion would be upset if anything happened to them, fertilised or not, he justified to himself. That was definitely why he was behaving so protectively.

In the warmth and the strangely comforting smell of both their passions, Anduin Wrynn found sleep catching up to himself as well all too quickly.


End file.
